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stressedanime · 2 months

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read on ao3

Will was sitting on the couch mindlessly flicking through Netflix. He was sitting completely upright, his body full of tension that he had nowhere to put. Nico was late coming home and Will couldn’t help the cascade of worst case scenarios that were currently parading through his mind.

As always, he remembered too late that he and Nico shared each other’s locations, so Will could literally track his location live through his phone. His arms darted around on the couch for his phone, probably more frantically than was necessary.

Before he could even find his phone he heard the scrape of keys against the lock, and then the sound of the front door opening, announcing Nico’s arrival back home. Will didn’t waste a second before he jumped off the couch and headed to greet his partner.

Nico was standing near the entrance of the house when Will reached him, but before he could embrace him like he always did, Will stopped.

Nico had an expression on his face that was unfamiliar, and frankly jarring to see. He wore a sheepish smile, but his dark eyes were sparkling with… hope? He was also standing slightly hunched with his hands behind his back, obviously hiding something, which was even more concerning.

They stared at each other for a beat, and before Will could question what he was hiding, Nico spoke.

“Will, darling. You love me right?”

Will blinked at him. “Yes… of course I love you,” he said hesitantly. Nico nodded, and it looked like he gained a little bit of confidence as he stood up straighter.

“You love me and you would do anything for me?” Nico questioned again, and at this point Will’s mind was racing through a million different possibilities.

Will hesitated, his eyes darting to Nico’s arms that disappeared behind him. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“What do you have ?” Will shot back, taking a step towards him. Nico held his gaze for another second, before sighing and carefully bringing his hands out from behind him. It looked like he was holding a bunched up t-shirt.

Will frowned, not sure what was so remarkable about an old t-shirt that Nico had to confirm Will’s devotion to him. Then he saw movement. Will’s eyes widened, and he closed the distance between them, and lightly touched the edge of the shirt.

Swaddled gently inside was a baby opossum. Its little black eyes stared up at Will, its pink nose wiggling slightly as it sniffed the air.

Will glanced up at Nico and almost had to look away instantly. Nico was giving him the biggest puppy dog eyes he had ever seen grace Nico’s face. Even the time that he came across a listing for an extremely rare first edition Mythomagic set didn’t come close to the eyes he was currently giving Will.

As Will stared at his adorable expression, he already knew what Nico was going to ask, and Will wasn’t sure if he could say no.

“Can we keep ‘er?” Nico asked on cue, pouring every ounce of sweetness he could into his voice. Nico blinked and somehow made his eyes even bigger. Will thought that this was vaguely reminiscent of a scene in the animated Puss in Boots they had recently watched together.

Nico’s favourite animal was opossums. Will and Nico’s Instagram and Twitter DM’s were more or less filled with possum memes, or just pictures of possums with Nico lamenting over how cute they were. He had always joked to Will that if he was to ever own a pet it would be a possum, so Will had to admit it wasn’t really surprising that Nico took the opportunity to bring one home.

Already feeling his resolution crack he sighed, knowing one of them had to be the voice of reason. “Nico. It’s a baby. Did you steal it from its mother?”

“No!” Nico exclaimed in a half whisper. Will raised his eyebrows. “No, I would never. It’s mom-” Nico cut off and hesitated, looking down at the creature in his hands. He shifted so he was cradling it protectively against his chest instead of holding it out to Will. To Will’s surprise, when Nico met his eyes again, Nico’s face was pinched into an expression that Will recognized as Nico trying to hold back tears.

“Her mom was on the side of the road. She was the only one that was still alive,” Nico said quietly, the last words of his sentence barely a whisper. Nico’s eyes filled with tears, and in tandem Will’s heart filled with sympathy and he reached out to pull Nico into a hug, being careful of the possum in his arms. He gently rubbed Nico’s back, and whispered comforting words. After a little bit, he kissed the top of Nico’s head and pulled back, decidedly not mentioning the newly damp spot on the collar of his shirt.

“Okay, let's go sit down. We definitely can’t keep it forever, but we have it now. Let's go figure out what we can do.” Nico nodded, and gave Will a peck as he walked by him, whispering a small thank you .

Nico headed to the living room, and placed the baby possum on the coffee table. He kneeled in front of it, crossing his arms on the table and then resting his head on his arms. Nico fixed the possum with a look of pure adoration as it crawled out of the t-shirt, then headed towards where Nico was sitting.

Will stood for a moment, just studying Nico. It was rare that Nico looked so absolutely soft with his chronic case of resting bitch face. Will got to see the soft side of him more than anyone else, but seeing Nico being so tender with such a tiny little creature caused Will’s insides to melt into a gooey mess.

Will sat on the couch behind Nico, and Nico leaned back using Will’s leg as back support. Will threaded his fingers into Nico’s dark wavy hair, scratching lightly as his scalp. Nico let out a puff of air and relaxed into the feeling.

“First things first,” Will started as Nico reached out to lightly pet the possum between its ears. “What did you name it?”

“Heather,” Nico answered, faster than Will expected.

“Heather?” Will repeated back to him, and Nico nodded. “Why Heather?”

Nico wasn’t facing Will, but Will could tell he was blushing by the shade of pink that his ears turned. He mumbled something Will couldn’t hear, so Will leaned forward, prompting him to repeat himself.

“I named her after the possum from Over the Hedge. She was voiced by Avril Lavigne.”

Will let out a small laugh, not out of judgement but out of affection. “That’s cute babe, Heather sounds perfect.” At that Nico tilted his head back into Will’s lap and smiled at him. Will leaned down, the position was a bit awkward but he still managed to give Nico a chaste kiss.

Will sat up again and Nico turned his attention back to the coffee table. At this point Heather had crawled into Nico’s hand and curled up, closing her eyes. Nico cooed at her, shifting on his legs but being careful not to move his arm at all.

“Are you able to Google what we should do? I know we probably can’t keep her, but I want to make sure we do everything right.”

Will hummed in affirmation and started looking for his phone again. He finally found it on the side table beside his end of the couch. He googled ‘how to take care of a baby possum’ and started reading out the advice.

“Number one thing is to keep her warm, and have her in a dark place. It says to put some rags in a box for her to go in with some sort of heating. I think we have a shoe box somewhere that we can use, and we have that heating pad, so I’ll grab that in a bit.” Nico nodded, and gently placed Heather back into the t-shirt.

“What about food?” Nico asked quietly.

“It actually says not to feed her. We could feed her the wrong thing or she could eat something wrong and get it into her lungs. Most of these sources say just keep her warm and safe until we can contact a wildlife rehabilitator.”

Nico sighed, his shoulders slumping. “That makes sense.” He leaned his head down onto the table. “I don’t want to give you away to some stranger though,” Nico cooed at Heather, using his finger to scratch her head again.

They sat in comfortable silence for a couple moments, before Nico perked up.

“Wait. What am I saying. Frank’s literally a wildlife rehabilitator! He works at the zoo as a vet! ”

Will’s eyes widened. “Oh my god you’re right.”

Nico carefully picked up Heather again, and turned around to look at Will. “Do you think they’ll keep her, and let us visit?” he asked, tentative hope written across his face. Will leaned down and kissed the tip of his nose.

“I’m sure you can convince Frank. I think he’s still scared of you.”

Nico laughed at that, and then shook his head. “I really don’t get why. I was joking when I gave him the shovel talk when he and Hazel started dating.”

“Babe, you can be scary when you’re happy ,” Will said leaning in and looking Nico directly in the eyes. Nico scrunched his nose in disagreement, so Will continued. “Not to me though. There’s no way I can think of you as scary when you bring baby animals home and name them after cartoon characters.” Nico rolled his eyes in annoyance, but the smile on his face betrayed him.

Will lightly gripped Nico’s chin and pulled him close. He caught Nico in a deeper kiss than the others he had given him since he got home, and Will did his best to pour his absolute adoration for Nico into it.

After a couple of moments though he pulled away. He slapped his thighs before standing up. “C’mon, let’s go set up a box for Heather. We can call Frank in the morning.” Nico nodded and stood up next to him slowly so as to not jostle Heather. Before Will could walk away Nico leaned in and gave Will another short kiss.

“Thank you,” Nico whispered against Will’s lips. Will just smiled, and returned the kiss.

#babies first solangelo fic guys!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#i wrote this in 3 hours so if it isn't the best #deal wit it #i fully believe that nico di angelo would love possums ok. am i projecting? maybe. am i right? yes #nico di angelo #will solace #solangelo #tw mention of animal death #also krista if u see this no you DIDNT

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littlemisspipebomb · 2 years

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Not to be Jesse Pinkman cause they literally don't exist where I live, but what's the different between possum and opossum? Is it just a regional thing for the same fella or something?

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yescrazycatlady10 · 1 year

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What's The Difference Between Opossums and Possums? #Shorts 🍄

#youtube #Opossum

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fanficfanart · 3 years

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have some renaissance rats with the bodies of bigger rats

if you don’t know what the heck this is you should go listen to the newest episode of Let’s Make a Music, and if you know exactly what's gong on here you should go listen to The Song of Green Bastion again bc it slaps and you know you want to

#lmam #lets make a music #opossums #song of green bastion #green bastion #this is not redwall #i dont know what redial is exactly but this is not that these are OPOSSUMS #google was very adamant i know the difference between opossums and possums #which i do and i love them both #i know other people are always like click for better quality/details but uhm #pls dont u will expose all my art crimes #i did this in a real dumbs way as im wont to do so uh...dont zoom in

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byamylaurens · 7 years

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Possum Inna Box! (Also, Possums vs Opossums)

Did you know possums and opossums are actually totally different species? If you’re Australian or Kiwi you might be aware, but I learned the other week that the rest of the world is not so familiar with this fact! The rest this all came to light is because for few days there, we went up to our garage every morning to find the boxes and brooms in disarray – and then there were footprints on the car’s windscreen – and then droppings. Oh yeah, and BLOOD, both on boxes and the car bonnet, because our resident pest was, of course, a female on heat. La. Initially we’d thought the footprints were cat; although we live in a cat-contained suburb*, we have been known to have a cat wander through our backyard every so often, and assumed one had just gone into the garage one night when we’d left it open and been getting warm and cozy on the car.

But! The footprints were not feline (which closer examination proved), and it turned out we had a possum. NOT an opossum, something that will become very important in a minute, because we don’t *have* opossums in Australia, but instead, a possum – in this case, a regular, common brush-tailed possum 🙂 We contemplated possum traps and such like, and then one morning we didn’t have to, because my husband went out to the garage to find this:

Int she cute?? 🙂 We cornered her easily because although she wasn’t terribly fond of us picking her up, she was comparatively placid for a wild animal, and boxed her up to relocate (carefully, because possums and territories etc etc), and that was that. I told Twitter, and the world exploded momentarily. WHAT IS THIS CUTE AND FURRY CREATURE? the world seemed to ask. IT IS LIKE A GIANT, SHINY SUGAR GLIDER.

Well, yeah, actually, because they’re both Australian marsupials. This is a REAL possum, I told Twitter, a MARSUPIAL, not like common American *O*possums.

Heh. Turns out American Opossums are marsupials too. Who knew? So, to celebrate the mutual learning that went on around this experience, here is a handy-dandy list I’ve compiled for you on the difference between possums and opossums:

Appearance

POSSUMS: Cute and adorable, like fluffy, furry little kitties with big, round eyes and petal-pink noses. OPOSSUMS: Look, I’m pretty fond of mammals generally, so let’s characterise its appearance as a cross between a rat and a hedgehog. My US friends tell me this is generous.

Smell

POSSUMS: Their pee is pungent, but not, like, puke-gaggingly so. The possums themselves don’t have a particular smell from my human perspective. OPOSSUMS: The internet says “almost like a skunk”. I’ll just leave it at that, shall I?

Temperament

POSSUMS: Bold, curious, hungry. OPOSSUMS: Rabid, demonic.

Habitat

POSSUMS: Trees, usually of the eucalypt varieties (not hard to find in Australia, let’s face it). Caravan parks. If you’re unlucky, your roof. Maybe even the roof of your caravan or tent in the middle of the night? Possies are territorial and have their own demarcated areas. OPOSSUMS: Under your house. They burrow?! (Possums that burrow, what even is this.) But generally just *around*, wherever nocturnal creatures hang.

Annoying Habits

POSSUMS: Don’t leave fruit (especially, but most food really) out at night or they’ll raid it. Mating possums in your roof are noisy and the pee-stink makes it into the house (but to be fair nesting in house rooves is common enough that we have possum removalists, but not THAT common). OPOSSUMS: My American friends tell me that they will destroy your garbage, your hands, your lives, your sooooooouls….. Though the internet is helpfully full of organisation protesting that they’re really actually not aggressive and they only hiss to scare you off and really they’re adorable little demons, so pwecious, aren’t vey, pwiddy widdle critcher…

To end, more possum pictures, proving the difference in temperament. These are from my honeymoon (eleven years ago, yipes!) and yes, my husband did get bitten, but only because the poor critcher mistook his thumb for a bit of pineapple. The possum was appropriately contrite 😉

(And for the sake of accuracy, did you know that most problems attributed to opossums are actually usually caused by other animals?)

(Also, although the phrase is ‘playing possum’, only opossums pretend to be dead. And of course, apparently they stink while doing so 😉 :D)

Possum Inna Box! (Also, Possums vs Opossums) was originally published on Amy Laurens

#all the pretty cuteness #Amy Laurens #Australian wildlife #possums vs opossums #there's a possum in my pantry #what's the difference between possums and opossums

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twdmusicboxmystery · 2 years

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V-Trap Part 2: Utility Belt and Cross Bracelet

So, while we’ll be discussing slightly different things here, this still stemmed from the original discussion about the traps. Read part 1 HERE.

@wdway:

I'm going to be talking about something from Alone that will lead to other episodes throughout the series. Many of these things we've discussed. Some more than others, but for myself, I have a different take on a few of these things because of perceiving something slightly different. One change in perception could open up a different way of thinking about several things. (I know that was as clear as mud.)

This is the walker that Beth was walking towards when she got trapped. I want to point out that he is holding a possum. At least that's what the body and tail looks like. Since he was interrupted while eating it, I think it's safe to assume it is dead. If you look closely, you can see a chain dangling from it. Which means it was also caught in a trap.

We have at least two traps set off, one with an opossum (known for playing dead). Beth is also trapped, but she lived despite a trap. I think that's important. I do not really know how to articulate it well. I think the writers want to make a point here, that even though we see Beth trapped a situation that could be deadly she will survive.

When I discovered the "V" fox trap I was very excited about the find and then as I was watching the walker, some new ideas occurred to me about it. First of all, Beth was going after it's gun. The walker was obviously a police officer, which is a foreshadowing of Grady.

The other thing that stood out to me, which I talked about a while ago, were it has handcuffs on the police utility belt.

So that's not a new find, but it sparked a new thought. I'm thinking that's the writers are showing us again in this episode that Beth is the new sheriff in town.

The belt is so very similar to the one that Rick wore. The only real difference is the fact that on Rick's belt, the handcuff holder is enclosed. I feel strongly that the writers wanted us to connect the handcuffs with Beth both as a reminder of Andrea characteristics and possible storylines, but also Merle who was trapped/handcuffed on the rooftop.

In s1 there was a question of whether he survived or if he was dead, but in s3 Andrea found him alive. The police utility belt is a connection between Beth and Rick.

You know, another thing that was very similar between Beth and Merle. Their wrist wear.

I'm just going to show you some things that really tie Beth and Rick together at least imo. I have for a long time now talked about the fact that I believe one of the symbols that Beth and Rick share is a square. If you turn the ■ square (Rick) on its end, it is the shape of a diamond ◇(Beth).

When Beth stops pushing Carol forward, she is standing on a Rick square inside her white diamond.

And Rick? Rick is sharing Beth’s symbol of a diamond.

More shots from Grady/Coda symbolizing the connection of Beth/ Daryl /Rick.

Parallel lines and a Chevron on the ground when Daryl carried Beth out. The black & white "V" Chevron. Black a color symbol for both Daryl and Rick. White a Beth color symbol.

The license plate from the overturned car in s1e1, Days Gone By. @frangipanilove commented recently how it could be read as s5e8, which we all know is Coda. This got me thinking about how there was the third unforeseen person who shot Rick and sent him to the hospital. That would tie in nicely with the theory of an unknown third person in play in the hallway at Grady, where Beth is shot. If the CRM does not want Beth leaving.

I'll throw out another wild speculation while I'm at it. We have the "V" Project, we have Violet as the name of a research group, we also have another group called Primrose. When Heath was taken there was a card left behind that said PPP. It's the third "P" that's giving me problems, haha. The first two Ps could be for Project Primrose. Just a wild guess.

@frangipanilove:

Loved all of this, and it sparked a few new thoughts. I’ve never given Beth/Rick’s belt much attention, but maybe I should have. I have this whole elaborate spiel on the blue clues, right? How it ultimately ties together Rick the police officer, and Beth the new sheriff in town, and how they’re both alive and we see that in the type of symbolism we see around both of them (such as the blue heron painting).

Back to Rick’s utility belt. You mentioned the police walker from Alone. I would call him a blue clue, because blue = police right? Well remember in season 8, I believe episode 6 (or whatever) Rick sees the helicopter, a foreshadow of future storylines that we now are seeing.

We also see Rick taken prisoner by Jadis and the Heapsters. They undress him down to his blue boxer shorts (blue trunks). Jadis steals his boots (boot = trunk), and they put him in a shipping container (trunk symbolism). But! I’ve never paid any attention to the fact that she also wears his utility belt! She doesn’t even appear with it the first time we see her with Rick’s boots, but we do see her with it later.

So, that makes me think that the utility belt has some significance beyond what I originally thought, especially now that you brought back the police walker from Alone. And Jadis, of course, is in the center of a lot of this symbolism. We saw her paint a blue cat; we saw her sculpt a cat sculpture identical to the Jaguar logo cat (Jaguar = the green car from 8x11); we’ve seen her in TWB as part of the CRM; and of course we’ve admired her fabulous hair (that part isn’t really relevant but I can’t not mention her hair bc it’s fabulous).

I’m also thinking about the car from the pilot, the one where the signs read 508 when upside down. Again, I’m talking on the Venus stuff, and I don’t feel like I’ve ever nailed down why we see it upside down. I have several theories on it, but I’ve never thought to see it in context with the upside down car from the pilot. Super interesting!

Also, I agree there’s some weirdness to the whole tracking scene from Alone. It’s difficult to articulate what exactly the weirdness encapsulates. It’s weird that the trap Beth steps in hasn’t gone off earlier, particularly if walkers and possums inhabit the area. So, most likely, there’s symbolism behind that creative decision.

I agree tptb did it to prove some kind of point. I’m certainly not opposed to the idea that the Grady folks deliberately set it up. It’s something we can’t prove, but it seems increasingly likely. But either way, you’re right, there’s at least two traps. One has caught a possum, which are famous for playing dead, and it’s being eaten by a police walker which I see as a blue clue.

I see a blue clue/police and a possum, which together represents Rick the police officer, and Beth the new sheriff in town who has been playing possum for a few years.

The cuffs imo is a callback to how Merle wore that leather/cross bracelets, was “trapped”, presumed dead (they only found his hand), but ultimately survived by cutting off his own hand. We see Beth cut her wrist, but survives. Ok, I’m rambling at this point, y’all know all of this already.

@wdway:

Frangi, I never knew Jadis wore Rick's utility belt. What a great catch! Now in TWB, Jadis is in a position of authority as a police/military officer. Interesting. I don't think Beth will be police in the literal sense, but I think she will be a leader in a free movement, a rebellion.

@galadrieljones:

I am just popping in and wanted to just quickly say this is a great interpretation of the "third man." The third man is pointed out explicitly by Shane in Rick's hallucination in 9x04, and I have always thought that was interesting. I love the idea of "the third man" also being relevant to Beth's shooting. I am honestly starting to believe that there WAS a third man, and that it was the CRM.

@frangipanilove:

Agreed. There’s a lot about Grady that now appears very different than it did at the time of airing and the following seasons.

@galadrieljones:

I hadn't thought about how Beth's utility belt is so like Rick's either. It really strengthens the whole "new sheriff in town" angle. She wore his hat, now she's got the belt. She also wears cowboy boots. Is she the only other character other than Rick who wears cowboy boots? Her cowboy boots send her back to that same old western tradition that Rick is clearly cast in.

All this to me really strengthens to parallels between them. Also, the gun that Beth takes off the walker—does she ever get it back, or does she ever fire the gun? I don't think she does. She fires A gun at Grady, but that's Gorman's gun. The gun that she got off that cop in Alone, who knows what happened to that, right? Chekhov's gun is pretty clear on the fact that if we see a gun in a story, that gun has got to go off. Wondering if we'll see that utility belt again.

(Beth getting the gun off the walker is yet another open-ended, strange thing from the tracking scene. Why give her the gun if she never gets to use it? So many of these choices feel deliberate yet completely unexplained.)

This kind of thing really makes me admire you guys and your foresight and how much you saw back then to make you believe. Of course, I have no frame of reference for that, other than that I've stuck around in other fandoms for years just because of one small hint of hope for a certain outcome that has yet to be determined. Hats off to all of your knowledge and analysis back in the day. It has led to some really amazing discoveries and more and more seems to crop up every time we revisit one of those old episodes, and it's super fun to be a part of it!

TWDMusicBoxMystery:

I think all this is genius! I only want to add a small detail about how Beth is like Rick. As you all said: hat, boots, utility belt, etc. And if we’re right about Legs from The Red Machete being Beth, she also has the red machete now. I’m just saying.

Thoughts?

#beth greene #beth greene lives #beth is alive #beth is coming #td theory #td theories #team delusional #team defiance #beth is almost here #bethyl

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vex-bittys · 4 years

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Imagine the Possum-bilities: An Underfell Story (part 1)

Note: This story is based on this artwork commissioned by @melodyrider.

Red went dumpster diving for leftovers, but instead he found a friend. Good thing his brother is so open-minded and accepting, otherwise things could go hilariously wrong!

Doom and Gloom

"WHAT," squawked Edge, jabbing one long phalanx at the narrow white face poking out of Red’s jacket, “IS THAT?” Unblinking beady black eyes met glowing red eyelights. A tiny pink nose, bristling with whiskers, twitched.

“it’s mine is what it is,” said Red with a cooler-than-thou attitude. The creature added a hiss of agreement. Red and his jacket passenger brushed past Edge and walked into the house. Doomfanger, Edge’s large white cat, eyed both of them skeptically from her palatial cat tree.

“YOU CAN’T BRING THAT THING INTO OUR HOUSE,” protested Edge. Ignoring him, Red bent down and unzipped his jacket. His passenger waddled out onto the floor, long hairless tail raised as if it owned the place. Doomfanger and Edge emitted nearly identical huffs of indignation.

“you have Doomfanger,” Red pointed out. “and now I have-” Red paused for only a fraction of second to contemplate “- Gloomfanger.” Gloomfanger chirped in a very un-gloomy manner, much to Red's delight.

While his brother sputtered his outrage from the front door, Red crouched, fishing what had once been a piece of gourmet burger from Grillby's out of his pocket. Unlike a fine cheese or wine, the meat did not age well in its lint-lined improvised cellar. Red tossed the morsel to Gloomfanger, who gobbled it down happily.

"SANS! SANS, ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME?" Red was, in fact, far too fascinated by Gloomfanger's precious little hand paws to do anything more than half listen to his brother's tirade, but he could tell that proverbial steam must be shooting out of Edge's ear canals. "YOU CAN'T JUST BRING THAT… THAT THING INTO OUR HOUSE!"

In addition to the perceived ear steam, Red could hear his brother's characteristic foot stomping behind him. He ignored Edge’s antics, choosing to focus on Gloomfanger's needle-sharp teeth as the hairy creature open-mouth chewed more pocket offerings, and threw his answer over his shoulder in an officious voice. "he's an opossum, Boss. and his name's Gloomfanger."

“WHERE DID YOU EVEN FIND SOMETHING LIKE THAT?” Edge gestured at Gloomfanger. The possum, not overly fond of the conversation’s tone or the wild gesturing, scurried under the couch to hide. Curious and equally done with the drama, Doomfanger followed.

“in the dumpster behind Grillby’s,” explained Red as if it should be obvious that one found pets by dumpster diving.

“WHY, EXACTLY, WERE YOU IN THE DUMPSTER BEHIND GRILLBY’S?”

“the second i walked in, Grillby was all like ‘pay your tab’ and ‘stop butt scooting across the floor’ like he owns the place.”

“HE DOES OWN THE PLACE.”

“yeah, well, he also throws out perfectly good leftovers as soon as monsters stop eating ‘em! i didn’t want to deal with Grillbs, so i headed out back for some chow. when i looked in the dumpster, i saw Gloomy laying on a plate of fries that were still warm! i thought he was dead, and he smelled terrible…”

“SO YOU DECIDED TO RESUSCITATE IT?” Edge interrupted incredulously.

“what? no. i picked him up to move him so i could get the fries, and he resuscitated himself! he climbed right into my jacket and made himself at home, so i snagged the fries and we shared them.”

Edge just sighed, at a complete loss for words. His disgusting brother deserved an equally disreputable and unkempt pet to share his garbage-eating tendencies with. Gloomfanger would feel right at home in Red’s disaster of a bedroom. Speaking (or rather thinking) of Gloomfanger…

“where’d Gloomfanger go?”

“IS YOUR DISGUSTING TRASH BEAST UNDER THE SOFA WITH MY DARLING DOOMFANGER?”

Eyelights bulging, Edge leapt onto the coffee table, grabbed the couch with both hands and upturned it, flinging it into the back wall of their living room. Doomfanger and Gloomfanger blinked up at him, then Doomfanger resumed grooming the possum’s round, hairless ears and purring. The possum made a grumbling sound that resembled the purr in the same way that the possum itself resembled the primped and preened Doomfanger.

Edge narrowed his sockets at Gloomfanger. “I’M WATCHING YOU,” he warned, using two slender phalanges to point to his sockets then to Gloomfanger. Gloomfanger regarded him coolly and burped.

Snorting, Red started up the stairs to prepare a spot in his aforementioned disaster of a room for his new pet to sleep. He stopped halfway up to call for Gloomfanger. “my bro’s watchin’ you,” he reminded the possum in a stage whisper, “so don’t go knockin’ her up or anything.”

The garbage-gobbling pair darted the rest of the way up the stairs with Edge’s outraged screeches chasing behind them.

Red spent the next hour sifting through piles of unwashed clothing, sorting them into new configurations until he had some passably clean blankets, sheets, and a few towels crammed haphazardly into his closet as a private nesting place for Gloomfanger. Gloomy climbed onto the pile, stomped it down to a serviceable height, and chirped in satisfaction. Red watched proudly as the possum pulled itself into a possum-loaf shape- yet another rough-around-the-edges mimicry of one of Doomfanger’s common behaviors.

As he crawled into bed (a mattress on the floor with a nest similar to Gloomfanger’s strewn across it), Red smiled to himself. His brother had Doomfanger, and now he had a pet too. Red didn’t dislike the spoiled feline, but he sometimes resented her, which was much different than being jealous of her, at least in his mind. Before Doomy arrived on their doorstep in the middle of a blizzard one night, it had just been him and his bro, two skeleton brothers against the dangerous world.

From babybones to stripes, Red had been a protective older brother, making sure that Edge never lacked anything despite the struggles that they both faced. Edge grew into a powerful and capable adult monster, but he still leaned on his big brother when he needed someone to confide in. Red cherished his position in Edge’s life. Very few monsters in their universe could boast having any sort of close bond with another monster… and then the little white ball of fluff showed up like a snow poff sprung to life and changed things.

If he were being completely honest and not at all in denial, Red would admit that he now needed Edge much more than his brother needed him. Instead, he half-heartedly blamed Doomfanger for replacing him. Edge would stroke her silky fur whenever he felt upset or pressured by his position in the Royal Guard. Edge also gave her an abundance of his doting, doting that had once exclusively fallen onto Red. Red shared all of these hidden thoughts (and a few of his favorite jokes) with his new companion, Gloomfanger.

Now Red wouldn’t rely on Edge as much, just the same way that Edge no longer relied on him. It served his brother right, in his opinion.

Meanwhile, Edge busied himself tidying up the living room. The coffee table drooped a bit, but the couch had survived its assault remarkably well. While her owner righted the furniture he had displaced, Doomfanger made an admirable bound back onto her cat tree throne to oversee the work from an appropriately lofty elevation.

Edge brushed himself off to remove the nonexistent dirt of a job well done and surveyed the living room. His eyelights came to rest on Doomfanger, and he found himself comparing her to Red’s unsightly new pet. Doomfanger oozed grace and majesty. The pure white feline was perfectly groomed, perfectly regal, and perfectly ferocious, just like a certain tall, dark, and handsome skeleton. Gloomfanger reeked, looked perpetually much worse for wear, and probably had no idea what the word grooming even meant. The gears in Edge’s mind turned, and a deep meaning floated around just past the reach of clear conscious thought.

Edge ignored the potential epiphany. He went into the kitchen and dug around under the sink until he found an old bowl of Doomfanger’s, a simple shiny metal dish that Edge had quickly replaced with something more elegant for his pampered cat. It would do nicely for what he had in mind though.

Red stumbled tiredly into the kitchen the next morning, scratching his tailbone and squinting against the bright light. Gloomfanger waddled contentedly at his heels making a variety of grunting sounds that proved to be indiscernible from Red’s own. Red pulled up short when he saw the gleaming metal dish next to Doomfanger’s… full to the brim with the same expensive food that Edge gave his beloved pet. Gloomfanger bumped into the back of Red’s legs and gave an irritated squeak.

“what’s with the extra food there, Boss?” Edge ignored Red’s use of his babybones nickname, a name Red only used to annoy him or disguise those pesky affectionate emotions.

“IT’S NOTHING,” Edge snapped, using a very similar tactic to distract his brother from the act of kindness and acceptance. “I JUST DON’T WANT THAT DIRTY ANIMAL STEALING ANY OF DOOMFANGER’S FOOD IS ALL.”

“riiiiiiiight.”

Gloomfanger’s nose twitched, and the possum shuffled forward to investigate the gourmet chow. Doomfanger stepped up to her dish, and together, the two animals began to eat. Edge and Red both took seats at their kitchen table. Soon two creatures that embodied class sat side-by-side with two unsavory but lovable creatures to dine in companionable silence.

Instead of widening the rift between the skeleton brothers, Gloomfanger’s presence laid the foundation for a bridge to be built over it.

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#vexy writes #underfell #underfell sans #underfell papyrus #fellbros #uf!sans #uf!papyrus #doomfanger #underfell doomfanger #underfell grillby #uf!grillby #gen fic

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swimyghost · 3 years

Text

Possum Chemistry

A backstory about Martha and Steve nobody asked for yet here we are. Rubi and Marie belong to @self-insert-nonsense so fuck yeah.

---

Rubi grunted as she tossed the garbage bag into the bin. She rolled his shoulder a few times before making her way back to the painting awaiting her in her studio.

He can work with dead bodies but garbage? Noooo, that's too 'unhygienic'.

She sighed. Rubi genuinely loved her husband despite all the crimes against humanity that took place in their shed on a daily basis and the aura of superiority he always liked to exude, but his lack of care for basic household chores was starting to get on her nerves.

She opened the backdoor to get back inside when he heard a pair of happy squeaks. Rubi turned her gaze behind her. In the distance was a pair of opossums happily walking side by side. One of them was considerably larger than the other and had a tired gaze while the other one had a tuft of hair in front of their eyes. The larger one suddenly ran ahead, leaving the tuff-haired possum by her lonesome. The possum disappeared into the bushes and reappeared with a fresh daisy in their mouth. A series of happy trills exploded from the other possum as they happily accepted their gift. The two briefly touched noses, causing a bashful stare between them, before they continued their walk into the forest, this time with the flower in tow.

Oh my fucking God, that's the cutest thing I've ever seen. Rubi thought, her mind growing fuzzy at the idea of her husband Herbert doing something similar.

"It is, isn't it?"

Startled, Rubi leaped to the side, afraid someone had broken into her yard. Instead, she saw that a dirty blonde-haired teen was leaning over her fence, their arms crossed with their head resting between them. Several possum joeys scurried all over their worn red sweatshirt, eagerly looking at their surroundings. Rubi sighed before glaring at the teenager.

"It's not nice to scare people, Neighbor... Or read minds for that matter," Rubi said, hesitantly adding the last part of that sentence.

"I'm sorry and I can't read minds," Neighbor corrected, "I only knew what you were thinking because your face was like an open book."

Rubi blushed but Neighbor continued, "Though I have to agree with you, Martha and Steve are adorable. Yeah, they're adorable all year round but they get extra adorable on this day."

"What's today?" Rubi asked.

Carefully hopping the fence, Neighbor answered her question, "It's their anniversary. That's why I'm watching the joeys."

The aforementioned baby possums eagerly reached out to grab Rubi's black locks as she blinked in surprise. "It's their anniversary? Why didn't they tell me? I could've drawn something for them!"

If you would've told me three years ago I would be upset that I didn't know the anniversary of a pair of possums, I would've called you crazy. Rubi said internally, slowly realizing how weird the situation was. She was brought back to reality as one of the joeys yanked on her hair.

"They probably forgot and it's not my place to share their personal business so I didn't say anything," Neighbor explained.

Rubi nodded, glancing back at the forest. She wished she would have taken a picture of that moment so she could shove it in Herbert's face. Was it so wrong that she wanted her husband to be just as romantic as Steve?

"Wanna know how they got together?"

"There's a story behind that?" Rubi questioned.

"Yes, but it's long so I think you should sit down." Neighbor said.

Rubi did just that, letting herself be overwhelmed with baby possums. Neighbor took their place beside her and let out a smile.

"It took place a couple of years ago..."

---

Martha knew she wasn't young anymore. That was not implying she was ancient, but her younger sisters from an even younger litter already had begun courting some jacks while she barely found any man tolerable. Her mother had told her that she was too picky but she couldn't help it; she wanted a real man, not a scoundrel. It also didn't help that human television had ruined her idea of love. She wanted a jack to sweep her off her paws and be there to tend to her every whim. Martha knew she was being too demanding, but seeing Mr. Darcy fall deeply in love with Elizabeth after spending so long trying to be the type of snobbish man both she and Elizabeth loathed filled her heart with joy and a desire to have that type of romance.

Her mother had called her a cotton-headed fool, but Martha thought of herself as a hopeless romantic.

The jill had already made a home for herself in an old badger set, filling her home with human trinkets and flowers. Every day was the same routine: wake up either when the sun was high or when it had set and began to forage or hunt, bring the meal back home and get, go back out and forge some more, stop by the nearby creek and get a drink, see if any of the nearby humans are watching something interesting on the television, then go home. It was a simple routine, but it made her happy. The only part of her day that she dreaded was drinking from the creek.

The creek was often the gathering spot from hotheaded jacks. As most possums her age and younger were burdened with the task of single-handedly raising the joeys, she was often the lone female in a cloud of raging testosterone. She felt appalled by the sort of things they would discuss, such as having slept with multiple jills, attacking humans for the fun of it, and purposely starting fights with the possum's rivals, the raccoons. All that talk reminded her of her brother, who was single like her but it was his own decision.

That all changed one day when she met a special jack.

It was a warmer night and the sun was still barely peeking out from beyond the horizon, but Martha was rather thirsty. The heat was getting to all of the animals of the forest, including her. She decided to make a quick detour to the creek to simply drink and wash up before going to forage for grubs. Martha was careful not to be out in the open as it was dangerous for any marsupial to be seen by a predator such as a coyote or a fox. Once she reached the stream, the peaceful lull of the swift waters slapping against the rocks were shattered the high-pitched, crude laughter of nearby jacks. They situated themselves atop a nearby hill and were acting like hooligans, shoving each other and daring one another to leap into the waters below. They would occasionally tear into a vole or squirrel, letting bits of meat and blood drip from their jaws and onto the floor. Martha viewed them as savages.

The jill quickly began her descent into the creek and let the water rest on the bottom of her stomach. The chill was relaxing and even though she had to tune out the immature calls from the males above, Martha was still enjoying the refreshing sensation. As she was trying to quickly finish up her bath, she saw him.

He was an older jack, probably only a moon or two older then she was. He was much larger than the other jacks, both in size and in weight, and held a sleepy gaze the entire time he padded towards the shore across from Martha. Although he held a tired demeanor, once he plunged his muzzle into the waters, Martha could see the kindness and intellect behind his brown eyes. His lovely gray and white fur was well groomed, not like the jacks that were sneering at both him and her above the pair and other males Martha had met. He seemed so gentle, carefully sitting himself down to get the best drink he could. Martha was instantly smitten.

She kept her eyes on him longer than she intended to as he lifted his head to meet her gaze. Embarrassed, the jill dove out of the water and raced away. She could faintly hear the taunts of the other males, but the look the larger male had given her set Martha's heart ablaze. She had done it, she finally met the one she was destined to be with. Her Mr. Darcy. Her Jack Dawson. Her Rick Blaine.

But she knew she couldn't just rush these things. Human television had taught her she had to be slow, but affirmative. That's why she arrived at the same time the next day, eagerly to meet her potential suitor. She ignored the calls of the jacks who happened to appear as well and only waited for her beloved. However, despite the fact she waited almost an entire evening, he never showed up. Martha was puzzled. Perhaps he was busy doing something else? The forest was a large place after all so it wouldn't be surprising if he got caught up in other affairs. So, after having a quick bite to eat, Martha returned home hoping tomorrow would give her something different. But it was the same thing that day too. Same as the next day, and the day after that, and then the next. Five sunrises had passed and Martha still hadn't met her soulmate again. Her mother's words rang in her head: a cotton-headed fool. Perhaps she had invented the jack to fill the void in her heart. Martha was even more lonely than she started out with. On the sixth day, she decided to start her regular routine up again, although she was much more somber. When she finally reached the creek, she was surprised to see that the subject of her affections was laying across the creek nibbling on a circular human food item. It looked like bread but the jill wasn't too sure. Whatever he was eating didn't matter to her, the jack was here and she was going to make a good first impression. Well, a good second impression, Martha remembered had awkwardly fled the first time they met. She groomed herself to perfection behind a tree before stepping out. Martha tried her best to seem nonchalant yet interested at the same time, like a human jill in one of those human television programs where everyone wore fancy suits and dresses (Martha hoped to one day wear a dress as pretty as those jills wore). Martha made her way to the creek, one eye on the jack, and started to drink. Although she tried to appear uncaring, she couldn't help but grow flustered every time he laid eyes on her. It was like her body was set ablaze by the fires of passion.

This went on for several days. The jack's odd schedule never made any sense to Martha, but she loved the days when the two would sneak looks at each other from across the creek. While the forbidden love aspect was romantic at first, the invisible border between them was growing larger and larger every day. Martha was confused about the next course of action. All of the human stories told her that their relationship would form naturally but it just felt stagnant. Martha didn't wanna lose this jack. She barely knew him, yes, but that's why she wanted to get together with him, to know everything about the lovely man she had fallen in love with. That's why she had decided to turn to The Old Ways. In the Deep Forest was said to house a being older than time itself. It heard all and had the answers. All it asked for was one thing: a vegetable.

Martha, desperate for answers, found herself a wild radish and began the trek into the deep part of the forest, deeper than most animals dared to venture. The sun began to rise and she knew that predators would rise as well. The forest grew thick with ancient trees and plants twice the size of her. Every noise set her heart racing again. The scent of a fox, coyote, and other strange creatures filled her nostrils once she padded over a log that was a natural bridge over a stream. Mud caked her body and she could feel herself heaving. A cotton-headed fool was the only type of animal who would do something like this, search for a being that might not even exist. Martha thought about turning around for the several hundredth time that whole journey but she couldn't. Not after all this time.

A crack of a twig shot her back to the present. Martha dropped the radish from her jaws and let out a long hiss, but it felt fake; the exhaustion was too strong. Martha was afraid because if she needed to run, she'd be dead.

Instead of a fox or coyote, a long-legged deer with the largest antlers Martha had ever seen stepped out. He looked young, but he had an aura of wisdom that radiated off him. He was bulky, but not overly muscular. His green eyes were teeming with hidden knowledge. He lowered him to Martha's level, offering her to climb on his back. Martha eagerly scrambled onto him, making sure to grab to radish before they took off. The deer didn't run, more liked glided across the forest floor. Leaves were kicked up in the air and floated around them like dancers. Martha was amazed by how bright everything suddenly became once they reached a circular pond surrounded by mossy trees and stones. The deer lowered itself, letting Martha slide off his back. Her body moved on autopilot. She walked towards to edge of the bottomless pool of water, dropped the radish in, and waited.

What is your question, marsupial? A voice erupted from the ground.

Martha leaped back in terror. Was it a monster? After a few moments, the rumbling stopped and carefully crept back to the edge and asked her question.

Your love will blossom only if the boundaries are shattered and words are spoken. Gazes hold little to the power of speech. That is all.

The voice disappeared as quickly as it appeared. Martha was left with more questions than answers but the strange deer already has lowered back down, signaling it was time to go. Martha more hesitantly crept back on and the deer took off once more. The possum watched the unusual pond until it disappeared from sight. Martha noticed it had become dark and was surprised to see the moon and the stars. She wanted to ask the deer if time had really passed so fast but felt like she was already messing with something beyond her understanding.

The deer stopped at a certain point in the forest as if it were blocked by an invisible force. The jill thanked the deer, stepped off, and made her way home. It was midnight when she finally reached her den. Too exhausted to bother with appearances, Martha collapsed in her nest of moss and ferns. The only thing on the jill's mind was going to see the jack of her dreams. She would go to the creek once she did two things: make herself look presentable and find him a gift. Once she awoke to the sun high in the sky, only then did she notice a faint glow around her. Martha was worried, but not worried enough to miss her chance. She didn't care if she was a cotton-headed fool or blinded by love, Martha was going to make him her's and become his jill. After savaging around, she found a strange human food item by their silver cans of waste. A folded-over piece of flatbread with cheese, meats, and other cut vegetables. The scent made her mouth water, but she grabbed it and rushed over to the creek. She was ready to cross when someone strange was standing by her usual spot.

It was the jack, equally as well-groomed as she was and holding a gift, a branch covered it ripe wild berries. He too had the odd glow around him as well.

The two stared at each other. Martha's heart was pounding. Everything was perfect; the sounds of the creek, the sunlight cutting through the tree branches, the lack of anyone else, animal or human. It was perfect, all of it was. She just needed to step forward. However, the jack moved up first, setting the branch down and nosing it toward her. Martha nearly fainted on the spot.

The two began to talk. Well, Martha spent most of the time talking. The jack, who she learned was named Steve (a wonderful name for such a handsome man), was a quiet soul but every time he spoke it was with purpose and he always added something to the conversation. Martha learned that his strange schedule was due to his strange sleep affliction in which he often found himself unable to sleep but when he could, would sleep for a long time. Steve had asked if she disliked him now. Martha was surprised as she had no reason to dislike him, he was perfect in her eyes. After their several hours-long chat, they simply sat pressed against each other, watching the water run by.

This became a common occurrence as the days slipped into weeks and into months. The time spent together was wonderful and Martha wanted it to last forever. However, spring had come after fall and winter became almost like a distant memory when she learned of her pregnancy. jills always knew when they were expecting, Martha's mother told her, and Martha was no different. All the signs had been there. The only problem she had was with Steve. It wasn't technically Steve, but males of the possum species had little to do with their babies. The jacks on creek's hill had all had babies but did nothing for them. Instead, they chase the next pretty face they saw. Martha knew it was selfish, but she wanted to stay with Steve. She didn't want him to leave her. So, despite wanting to see him, she decided to stay home and prepare a nest. Although her babies would go into her pouch and stay there for two and a half moons, she felt it necessary to be ready for anything. Besides, she needed to keep her mind off of Steve.

But the day soon came where she needed to visit him. She knew it wasn't fair for Steve to be left in the dark, especially since none of this was entirely his fault. So, on a calm spring morning, Martha nervously made the trek to the creek. Of course, Steve was waiting for her. He had been waiting for her all this time. The usually rational and collected Steve began to fret over the expecting mother, worried that something had happened to her. Martha's heart broke when she saw the worry in his eyes. Finally, once both of them all calmed down, Martha began to speak. She told him about the pregnancy, how far along she was, and her fears. She told him how she dreamed of meeting a man just like him and how she was so afraid to lose him. However, Martha told him that she couldn't make him stay and that, if he wanted to leave, he could and that she wouldn't hold it against him. Silence filled the clearing. All Martha could feel was his gaze on her. Her breathing grew louder but she tried to remain calm.

Suddenly, Steve pressed himself against Martha. Although he didn't say anything, the message was clear. Steve was going to stay, no matter what. Martha let out several happy squeaks and trills and buried her muzzle in his fur. Even Steve let out a couple of excited chirps. Once the two pulled away, the pair touched their noses together, excitedly waiting to see what the future held for the both of them.

---

"Wait, why was their love forbidden? And I never thought you'd be so... Detailed." Rubi said once the story came to a close.

"Well, blame Martha," Neighbor explained. "She's the one who always said it was forbidden because of the symbolism of them being split by the creek or whatever. Personally, I'm just happy Steve stayed. Martha is such a happy possum and I'd be sad to see her sad."

"Me too." Rubi agreed, stroking the back of a black-tufted joey.

As if it was their cue, Steve and Martha slipped under the fence with Martha calling out to her babies. The joeys let go of Rubi and Neighbor and eagerly rushed towards their parents. Steve didn't make any noise as his children began to climb all over him. Martha chirped at Rubi and Neighbor, seemingly smiling at them.

"What did she say?" The older woman asked.

"Martha says thank you for watching her babies and that it was a wonderful anniversary. They have to go home though, it's growing late for the joeys." Neighbor translated.

The possums said their goodbyes (according to Neighbor) and left the yard. Neighbor stood up and stretched.

"I need to go home too. Mom's making a pot roast tonight. Don't you have to take care of Marie?"

"Marie's with her grandmother," Rubi said, waving to Neighbor. "Have a good dinner! Thank you for the story."

"It’s no big deal. Later."

With a quick hop over the fence, Neighbor was gone. Rubi took this time to enter the shed. It was covered with science equipment and tools such as hammers and bone saws, but Rubi already knew how to maneuver around the well-lit area. Her black-haired husband didn't look up from his work, but already knew who it was.

"Hello, dear. What did you do today?"

"Painted mostly," Rubi said, wrapping her arms around Herbert's neck in a loose hug. "With Marie gone, it's easier to work without having to worry about her eating something."

"Well, that's certainly a plus," Herbert said, glancing up at Rubi before looking back down at the dull gray-skinned body in front of him.

"It was also Steve and Martha's anniversary today. Neighbor told me the story of how they met."

"Martha?" Herbert quickly looked up after hearing the name of his favorite possum. "Is she upset with me?"

"No, she and Steve didn't tell us and they weren't upset when I saw them. They looked very happy, actually."

"That's good. I was afraid I needed to whip up a hastily made gift for them." Herbert sighed in relief.

Rubi made a noncommittal hum, making circles with her finger around her husband's collar bone. "Herbert."

"Yes, dear?"

"I wanna have another baby."

"Well, I think that can certainly be arran- Wait, what?"

#oc x canon #fanfic

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